


Bloodstains on Loveletters

by pflaume



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, No One Wanted This, Vampires, including me, tvd!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pflaume/pseuds/pflaume
Summary: Jeonghan plays with the devil. Seungcheol offers him a withered hand and a white rose poisoned with blood. Thorns look easy for a creature like the former and the latter watches in amusement how everything unfolds. Indeed, he who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.For the beauty of the flower, we also water the cynical.





	1. russian roulette

**Author's Note:**

> Term that you would encounter:
> 
> Vervain - a potent herb and a vampire's most well-known weakness; physical contact will burn them.

Obsession might have been the strongest word to describe it. To haunt, to intruse, to excessively preoccupy his mind, up to the point that it has became too engaging; every little thing he does, that is. It is tormenting and at the same time, pleasing; to feel such domineering aura crush him to pieces: exquisite, and he wouldn't want anything less.

  
  
Maybe it's because his own blood runs through Jeonghan's throat. After all, feed has never been the same for the latter. The thirst had been harder to quench.

  
  
Or maybe because Jeonghan is inlove with the power etched into his every being. The very first meeting they had during that frat house party had Jeonghan keening and he hated it. He isn't one for unplanned nights and he knew a new coven from the East is arriving. What he wasn't informed is the damning fact that the new guests aren't just from _any goddamn coven._

 

 

*

 

  
  
Red cups strewn everywhere that night and everyone's eyes are flitting, sending unsaid messages over drunken grumbles of unsuspecting humans. The aura was tense around him and his members. Mingyu, whom he was shooing away for the last minutes remained stubborn, a good meter standing between them. He looks passive and at the same time not. Jeonghan knew that look, something the younger wears every time they go on stealth combat or hunt.

  
  
Someone idly passed through and gave him a bright, dazzling smile. Jeonghan raised a brow at the stranger who whispered, "It's dangerous outside. Someone fragile shouldn't be out in this dead of the night."

  
  
Jeonghan's lip quirked up into a grin when he noticed the _very_ scarce distance between them and he was even more than willing to step closer into the line as the light dances in the man's eyes, "Isn't it more dangerous to assume fragility upon someone you don't know?"

  
  
Jeonghan's descent isn't one for secret. Born to a first class vampire and a witch, he has every single person in town, human or not, latched around his digits, well, unknowingly. Hybrids are the strongest of their kind, _at least in his town_ , and to be overthrown in just one night isn't something Jeonghan had in his list. It was an insult.

  
  
His red cup was taken away by the stranger who drank its content in one big gulp. Jeonghan's grin faltered when the man didn't even blink at the concoction and grumbled, "Vervain. It alters the taste of alcohol. I hate it but it doesn't do anything to me. I expected you would know. Shame, you gotta do better than that."

  
  
It took Jeonghan three seconds for realization to kick in. He saw how Mingyu took a step toward them in the corner of his eyes but he flicked a finger and the younger remained rooted on the spot, struggling on invisible ropes.

  
  
Before Jeonghan could say another thing, the stranger was spun around by someone who grabbed his arm and not so subtly gritted his teeth, "Seungcheol, this isn't a good place to play."

  
  
_So that was him._

  
  
"I wasn't playing." The shift of aura had Jeonghan taking a step back, _something isn't right, the defiance from vervain said so_. A cynical look carved all the way through Seungcheol's strong features as he smiled and turned back to him, teeth showing like he's about to go on a murder spree, "Jihoonie, have you met Yoon Jeonghan?"

  
  
It was that moment Jeonghan decided he wants Choi Seungcheol, the newcomer.

 

  
An _original_ , he is. Born straight from the descent of the very first 10th century vampires, making him one of the strongest and indestructible creatures walking on Earth. And damn, is it true. Seungcheol is a walking mass of dominance and power, with those storm gray eyes and the stance of a royalty. He knows he is something and he knows how to use it.

 

 

*

 

  
  
"Leaving already?" The deep low rumble of someone's voice echoes through the spacious bed room, pulling him back from whatever his groggy mind shifted on. 

 

Jeonghan would have jumped in surprise, had he not have his senses heightened, always on alert. Trust is a very hard word to bump into when it comes to him. He takes his time, fitting back inside his tight jeans and shrugging his club clothes on. He looks at himself in the mirror and answers through the reflection, "I have classes, which I am already late so I would appreciate it if I can silently trudge off this mansion."

  
  
There is no reply and Jeonghan wonders if he has overdone it. _But really, what's there to overdo?_ he asks himself. Nothing. Last night was a good fuck, amazing even; if he was to be honest and that's just it so he slips off the man's bedroom, leaving him naked under sheets and still asleep. No words exchanged, or so he thinks.

  
  
The sun smiles hard against the glass mosaic wall of the house and he tries hard not to squint at it. He's not supposed to feel exhausted. Vampires don't collect fatigue over mere human activity, most definitely not sex but his body berates him for every step he takes down the gloomy huge staircase.

  
  
"You know we're not staying here for too long, right?" Someone says from the door frame leading to the kitchen.

  
  
Jeonghan's kinda bitter to have memorized every single detail of the place. It's indeed as if an evidence of power and at the same time a reminder that he remains second on everything. He only folds his thin limbs infront of his chest, "And what do you want to say?"

  
  
"I'm saying you left your jacket inside. You should take it with you probably."

  
  
The blond only shrugs, proceeding to take the last flight of steps. If there's something he goes all out for, it's the fact that he gives himself the satisfaction of letting everyone knows what he wants. His own coven calls him a brat for it, a spoiled one; but he doesn't take heed. He makes sure he marks every little thing that belongs and will belong to him and this is just one of those exercises of ownership. He stops at the foot of the stairs, "What are you exactly doing here, Jihoon?"

  
  
"I could ask that for you."

  
  
Jeonghan casts him a look that says _'are you seriously asking me that?'_ while gesturing at himself in a wild swing of limbs. When the other didn't get what he's pointing out, he makes an obscene sexual gesture using his hand and mouth, prodding his cheek with his tongue so it sticks out in time with his hand.

  
  
Seungcheol, who has been watching them from upstairs, laughs and Jeonghan rolls his eyes when Jihoon frowns so hard his face contorts into disgust. "Fucking Christ. I'm just here to make sure Seungcheol doesn't play around too much and I get this. He's extra hungry during mornings."

  
  
Three seconds and the eldest is already beside Jeonghan, muscles in his jaw taut and holding back like he's about to attack. "You treat me like a child too much," he says casually, wrapping his arm around Jeonghan's waist. The latter purrs at Seungcheol's touch and proceeds to give Jihoon a taunting smile, after prying the glass of brandy off Seungcheol's hand and setting it down the table.

  
  
"Aren't you? After all, we're on the run because of what you did and what you're still doing," Jihoon quips and Jeonghan could feel the tension slice through everything that he has a grasp on but the two seem too acquainted with it.

  
  
"Jeonghan was just going out. He has classes to attend to," Seungcheol clears his throat, effectively swerving the conversation away from the topic. He's now being led by the man out into the gates of the mansion, a car already parked outside and clad with a personal driver. Jihoon remains sulking inside.

  
  
He raises his brow immediately, finding humor upon the action, "You know I'm faster on foot than that, right?"

  
  
"I know you're tired," Seungcheol's lips turn up into a gorgeous smirk and Jeonghan thinks that's really unhelpful in his state of emotions right now so he lets the other press a kiss into his forehead before watching him instruct the driver to take Jeonghan home and into his university.

 

It is also at this moment that Jeonghan wants to pretend things between them aren't as complicated as it looks but even the soft rumble of the Mustang or the good hundred-meter distance away from the house doesn't drown out Jihoon's voice when he says, "You don't play with your food, Seungcheol."

  
  
But of course, Jeonghan is wiser. He has always been.

  
  
  
*

  
  
  
The prophecy didn't fail when it said someone _powerful_ would defy every single piece of treaties laid upon borders by borders, mock the council by leading a strong group of coup d'etas in nations, and leer at the sheet of secrecy protecting the supernatural by overthrowing stealth in human murders around towns. Seungcheol prances through his sprees like a madman, snapping in times he likes. Massacre will always be an understatement if anyone is to talk about Seungcheol's actions. It's more than what the word can describe.

  
  
The high council doesn't also falter sending the decree to Jeonghan's town, a day after the very first news of another bloodbath spreads, and everyone knows it by now, even Seungcheol. The thing is, he doesn't even flinch at the mention of his head on the line. Excitement is something that buzzes through his being, Jeonghan finds out after one night, when Seungcheol for the first time took him out to show him how he hunts.

 

 

*

 

  
Jeonghan knows he is playing with fire with what he's doing behind the backs of his coven members and he can still remember their conversation that night.

  
  
"You know that the endgame of this is me handing your head to your own father, right? Showing off would be a fatal weakness, Choi."

  
  
Seungcheol swiped his lower lip with his tongue as he steps into the forest, creating no sound like he was a ghost. Jeonghan wished he was the one doing that to his lips. "Would you, Yoon?"

  
  
"No offense," he snorted, following the older but his hand tightened around the other's fingers like it was begging for him to stop whatever he's about to say. "But I would, and I won't even blink while doing it."

  
  
There was taut silence after that and Jeonghan's mind short circuits on his every senses. In the middle of the heart of the forest, he knew Seungcheol could kill him in one swipe without breaking a sweat yet his feet wouldn't stop obeying, like he was compelled to whatever the other wishes.

  
  
"Right, you would. But don't think I would give you the privilege of it. After all, the chase is always fun, especially if it's with someone as exertive and feisty like you, the visual is just a bonus," Seungcheol says finally in his most intimidating and playful voice that Jeonghan is too familiar with.

  
  
The leaves crunched under their feet as they dashed into a run, weaving through the plethora of trees. The dark was maddening but they were both creatures of the night. Seungcheol laughed when Jeonghan realized with wide eyes that they crossed a border, something he wouldn't do when he was sane. That night, he wasn't and he didn't want to think about who's the reason for it.

  
  
They arrived at a bend of the road just in the outskirt of the neighboring town and Jeonghan is more than impressed to see how strategic Seungcheol could be; thinks he's more than compelled when he realized how the other works his most gruesome deeds under the beautiful night sky. It was too cynical, like the stars are mocking him as he watched hidden from the growth of shrubs and Seungcheol stood in the middle of the road, looking nonchalant. _And fucking handsome._

  
  
The events happened so fast like it was destined, or even planned. Jeonghan was sure he heard how bones crunched when a civilian's car hit Seungcheol, throwing him off skidding on asphalt. Naturally, the human panicked and did what the dumbest thing she could do in this situation: to step out of her car and the moment she did, the vampire was already nowhere in sight. Another set of bones crack though the human's confusion and Jeonghan watches her life slip and dangle away just like how her broken neck was situated in between Seungcheol's hand. 

 

  
"Ouch," Seungcheol whispered, gaze very intent on Jeonghan. "Sorry for that." And then he laughed; gray eyes twinkling under the moonlight, like it was some kind of a sick joke.

  
  
Jeonghan stepped out of the forest with his hands inside his pocket, trying so hard not to take in the reality that Seungcheol doesn't recognize mercy nor hesitation. He goes for whatever he wants and somehow, this made Jeonghan, for the first time, scared for his own coven. If ever he wages war, and he would, leniency wouldn't be in the man's list. He wouldn't take his kids dying for him.

  
  
"Was I too rough?" the older tilted his head in mock interest when Jeonghan remained silent.

  
  
The blond grinned, hiding hesitancy, "Couldn't even take her to dinner. Such an asshole, Choi Seungcheol."

  
  
"Oh no, baby," Seungcheol adjusted the now growing cold body properly, which was slumping on him earlier. "You take food from dinner, not the other way around. Come here."

  
  
"Of course," Jeonghan took measurable steps toward the man. It never hurts to be careful, especially in front of their kind's strongest.

  
  
Seungcheol tilted the corpse's neck and showed it to Jeonghan before he commanded, "Feed."

  
  
Originals have this uncanny advantage over any normal vampires. They could compel them to do whatever they want, just like how average vampires could to any normal humans. However, common ones can't compel their fellow creatures. Originals own that stunt and Jeonghan wasn't an exception to that hold.

  
  
The back of his mind said he could fight the compulsion if Jeonghan exerts effort. He was a hybrid, a witch descent after all, and he knows the proper incantation but he didn't because this was Choi Seungcheol, _his Choi Seungcheol_ , someone he's willing to commit any trespass against any nature of laws or treaties of council. So without any waver of thoughts, he sunk his teeth deep on the corpse and started feeding, all the while Seungcheol watched him.

  
  
He was already mush and trembling when he heard Seungcheol say, "Jeonghan, stop." He staggered back pushing the corpse away, unaware and horrified of how he enjoyed the taste of fresh human blood. The sweet tinge remained in his tongue, wrecking his control in every fiber and the gasp didn't skip Seungcheol's notice. "It's okay, it's alright, sweetie."

  
  
"The fuck was that." His head was spinning of buzz and delight at the same time while the older wiped his lips using his thumb and pressed small kisses on it. The sensation, which he didn't know if it came from the amount of blood he just ingested or from Seungcheol's kisses, left him wanting for more and Seungcheol, the devil, was the only one capable of inflicting that to him.

  
  
It only took seconds for the said man to latch his arm around Jeonghan's waist, supporting him because he looked like he's about to faint and sporting a smile so sickeningly sweet Jeonghan's knees started to buckle. He tucked a white flower spoiled with blood behind the younger's right ear, "That's you learning from me. You looked so pretty sucking all the lights out of her eyes though. Such a good boy."

  
  
Jeonghan started to recover because of the compliment and got hyperaware of how the red lights in his senses go off saying, _'this draws the line, step away from him'_ but he was none too intimidated, more even attracted so he preens, teeth showing. "I can do more than that."

  
  
He will win this game.

  
  
The corner of Seungcheol's lips pulled into another cynic smile as he announced under the low glow of moonlight dancing in his face, "Of course. I was just preparing you," he rolled the sleeves of his button up and showed Jeonghan the ghost white expanse of skin in his lower arm, "Now, feed."

  
  
And that was the moment Jeonghan knew was too much. The consequences of drinking blood from an Original started listing in his mind, doting him. But again, this was Choi Seungcheol, _his Choi Seungcheol_.

  
  
Willingly, he stripped his own remaining sanity and plunged in.

  
  
  
*  


 

 

A punch goes straight to his nose and before Jeonghan could recuperate, another connects to his jaw. He careens away from the onslaught of assault his very own member inflicted him, caught offguard. A huddle of students scutters away from the chaos and Jeonghan is left squinting at Wonwoo, who is already being held back by Mingyu. "What the fuck was that for, Jeon?" He shouts angrily. The street outside the university suddenly is stale. A point that says people know they shouldn't be poking their nose in the business of these faces.

  
  
"You fucking tell me!" He shoots back, trying to squirm away from the taller's grip. "Fucking let go of me!"

  
  
Seungkwan, the youngest in their coven, stands a good distance away, fiddling at the hem of his shirt and not knowing whether he should intervene or not, but he's murmuring an _incantation_ , covering the gang in a sheet of illusion so civilians wont notice.

  
  
Jeonghan starts to understand and he immediately walks aggressively toward Joshua, "You did it again, Hong! You fucking went inside my head again, you fu-"

  
  
A wild dash of fire appears infront of them surprising Jeonghan, cutting him mid-stride and slicing through the distance of the coven's leader and Joshua, who looks very threatening. Jeonghan stops in his track, eyes wild. "Do not try me, Jeonghan. You could be the leader of this pack but I can't let you dangle everyone's lives by strutting around the chaos himself. He is an abomination to the council. What you're doing will get us in trouble."

  
  
"Huh," Wonwoo snides from behind him and he suddenly can't move. He knows he isn't guilty. He knows he has a plan but _why does it feel otherwise?_ "You probably think we don't know what you're doing, _hyung_."

  
  
"You don't!" Jeonghan shouts, frustration pulling him in every edges upon finding mock on Wonwoo's voice.

  
  
"What don't we know, _hyung?_ " Seokmin appears in his side as quiet as the wind. He's suddenly manhandled, shirt pulled away from his skin. "This mark already tells us everything," he grits his teeth in anger yet Jeonghan traces the disappointment in his voice as the younger studies the bite mark in Jeonghan's neck. Something cracks inside him.

  
  
He immediately pulls away feeling the anger bubble up in his gut he's sure he could kill a mass of people with it, "You are all imbeciles! Fucking ungrateful!"

  
  
"You're calling us imbeciles? You're the fucking idiot Jeonghan."

  
  
"Joshua, stop."

  
  
"Fuck off, Mingyu," Joshua shoots him a look before he snaps back to his leader. "You are feeding off each other's blood. And you, yourself, knows what that means, Jeonghan. That's basically mating."

  
  
"Listen, Hong," Jeonghan is suddenly back on his feet, somehow finding strength in his rage. The fire between them _parts_ and Jeonghan steps in to close the distance. Joshua looks like he's about to step back but he doesn't. "I am not the leader of this coven for nothing. And I know what I'm doing," he seethes, irises shifting from brown to bloody red and blowing wild. "This is all according to plan so don't act like only your lives are on the line because guess what, mine is too. And believe it or not, I'm doing this sacrifice for all of you. Thanks for appreciating this, fuck."

  
  
Jeonghan wildly turns around so everyone sees him when no one decided to talk. The fire behind him starts to ebb away. "Today is the blood moon and you all wouldn't know this without my _'strutting around the chaos'_ but Seungcheol has two weaknesses. First is the blood moon and second is-"

  
  
"You," Mingyu breathes, as if realizing had his ability of lungs knocked off.

  
  
"It's good that someone actually observes," Jeonghan says pointedly, walking away from the mess they started earlier. "Now pack your shit and show up at the rendezvous tonight. We have an ambush to plan."

  
  
Of course, Jeonghan is wiser. He has always been.

 

*


	2. Survival of the Fittest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A (lame) filler chapter before the combat in desperation of reviving the tag; i am so sorry. This is just a hard description of how vague their relationship is. And little hints about what's gonna happen.

Red are the streaks of blood that trickle down the expanse of Seungcheol's pale cheeks, oozing from his eyes in rich, deep torture. It's like watching how blood, completely opposite in terms of temperature, bounces when it hits a snow frosted ground. He's soaked to say, the least, and is bathed in his own crimson liquid.

 

Red is also the pain pulling in every parts of Jeonghan as he watches his mate slowly die in front of him, wrecking him in ways he could not fathom, nor deny. His primal instincts want to let go of the binding chain he, himself, is currently holding; wants him to tear the person responsible for his mate's pain into pieces because no one is fucking allowed to touch him. No one is fucking allowed to hurt Choi Seungcheol.

 

But then again, he is the one who lured him into the binding trap hours ago when the combat started rather unceremoniously. By now, he can feel the consequences of their shared mark thrum in between. What Seungcheol feels, reflects into him, twiceㅡ fuck it, thrice the force.

 

He could see murder so destructive he swears he can force the blood moon into hiding. His fingers dug so painfully hard around the wooden stake but he's not letting go, not when he's already halfway in killing his own lover, there's no turning back; not when Seungkwan starts to bleed out of his nose from holding the barriers in his own will and power and Joshua is glaring so hard at him he can feel holes bore in his head; not when Mingyu is sprawled on the ground helplessly, clutching a large wound in his side; and not when Seungcheol himself gave him that one last smile, albeit bleeding in every holes of his body.

 

Jeonghan charges into the forbidden circle in full speed, stopping a breath away from his man before plunging the stake all the way through his heart.

 

*

 

It started as a game.

 

Jeonghan isn’t the type to bother about solitude. Sure, there has been a copious amount of people who showed him interest, offered him power and a merger of clans. They weren’t the best, coming from the other nations, when Jeonghan knows he owns a powerful one in his own territory, made them stable and strong. He will never keen on another’s rule of power, _never._

 

But then, Seungcheol stepped into town. The _original_ with his arrogant, snide remarks and outlandish behavior. It might have started in the party: Seungcheol, looking up from his red cup, soft lips pressed against the rim with a taunting grin and a hard gaze trailing on him; his button-up; his rolled up sleeves.

 

“You know villagers should introduce newcomers around town,” the other casually says, silver hair distinct under the low light of the cramped college frat house. “What do you think, Jeonghan?”

 

Jeonghan was thoroughly intimated, not that he admits, after meeting him for only a night. The man has always thought _originals_ are a myth but then he should have known better, when he himself is a myth, to be standing too close and flushed to one. The thrum of power makes him weak, makes him want Seungcheol to push him, make him kneel, spite him, anything that will make him stop looking at his eyes, gravitated.

 

“To what do we owe you a visit?” The blond asks, instead. He can hear Joshua inside his head telling him to back away but he just can’t do that. That’s a sign of surrender. “Our town must have been an eye for you to go out your way.”

 

“No,” Seungcheol waves his hand, pushing what Jeonghan has said away. It feels like a lift of time how his gaze drags on his face and a smirk pulls again on his lips. “Not the town. You, Yoon Jeonghan.”

 

“Nice meeting you too, Seungcheol,” Jeonghan only says, gritting his jaw in an attempt to gather himself together, before he turns around and leaves the said man in the middle of the crowd.

 

Because gazing up at the _original_ reminds him of how he is below him; a rank low in the pyramid.

 

*

 

And then it was a push and pull.

 

Secretly meeting Seungcheol during his days of muttered apologies and excuses to his own coven, there was fear inflicted in his very own system.

 

And then nights.

 

But even if Jeonghan denies, Seungcheol is the cause of the dread that never went away. Jeonghan lived with it, watch it turn into excitement everytime he hears the other’s rumble of engine outside his house and knows he’d be out for the day with the man, only to witness it turn sour every time the two ends into a fight.

 

Somehow, Jeonghan isn’t the one to back down.

 

It isn't a rose when it lacks of thorns, adorning the beautiful red bud of blood and craving, mixed in big doses for dependence, or perhaps lifeline. Seungcheol isn't the thorn, however. Jeonghan is.

 

“That fucking hurts,” Seungcheol hisses and even though he has his fist around Jeonghan's neck; has him pushed against the white wall of his bedroom, the other mewls when he presses his thighs hard in between his legs.

 

Jeonghan is out of breath but the leer in his face is challenging Seungcheol to do more. “You never listen, do you?” he cracks a smile and throws away the revolver. The gunshot wound in Seungcheol's shoulder closes faster than the weapon landing on the plush gray carpet with a thud. He runs his bloody hands through Seungcheol's rich silver hair before he fists it. “Don't play around in front of my face, asshole.”

 

“Oh, did I offend you? Jealous, are we?” Seungcheol begins to challenge. His hand drops dangerously low from Jeonghan's neck to his hips, supporting him up.

 

“You're not a young god, Seungcheol,” the younger whispers, leaning in so Seungcheol could feel him mouthing the words an inch away from his lips whilst he slowly wraps his legs around his waist.

 

This, much to Jeonghan's chagrin, riles up Seungcheol. There were no words exchanged when the older crashes his lips to his and brings him to his bed without pulling away from the needy heat; hands hastily finding familiarity in “fuck hurry up” and “my clothes, yes please” after curves and skin crave to be worshipped.

 

It took Jeonghan three months to realize and admit what he has been doing all this time; impress Choi Seungcheol.

*

 

What Jeonghan fears the most is when Seungcheol’s resolves crack because he doesn’t know how to handle the fact that the other might be also into their arrangement. After all, they both knew about the prophecy. Someone would end up cold in another’s hand and it’s just a matter of time to tell who’s gonna be who. There are days when he did not see him for stretches of days—even weeks. Only to be crashed with the sudden warmth on a three am, not that the time matters, from the man himself, exhausted but more relieved upon seeing his face.

 

Jeonghan doesn’t believe a single thing Seungcheol says.

 

But sometimes he spots him looking at him with a certain gaze, other than his steely look. It makes him want to beg for him to be one with his lust, and he lets himself soak with the possibility.

 

To say that Jeonghan's relationship with Seungcheol is damned, is like vaguely predicting someone's fate over cards and dried leaves settled on tea cups.

 

Everyone knew what Seungcheol is doing the moment he stepped into town. It was pre-determined. But Jeonghan remained a catalyst, always the one to cause problems, which Seungcheol was more than thrilled to follow into.

 

“I’m expecting you to push through it.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and suddenly, Jeonghan can’t look up at him, much less push past his dread.

 

But he asks, “What if something happens the last minute?”

 

Seungcheol frowns. The moonlight casts a glow down his distressed face and Jeonghan finds it unfair for him to be reacting this way. The man pulls him close, bodies both flushed together and Jeonghan finally lets himself relax, face falling into the other’s neck. “I would not let anything happen to you, Jeonghan.”

 

“Do you think I’d save you if you were the one on the line?” The blond retaliates, pushing Seungcheol the farthest he can do, not physically though but if he projects distance, it would be a lot easier for them.

 

“I don’t. I know what’s at stake and this ends here.”

 

“Then we shall play our best.”

 

“I know you will.”

 

Choi Seungcheol plays really well. His kind of entertainment is tearing and ripping. The man plays with the voices in everyone’s head, feeding on excessive sin.

 

But Jeonghan swears he can put the motherfucker down the bottom of a shot glass filled with vodka. Or so he thought, when all he does is tiptoe on broken glass, sick of thinking about the feelings that he hides, all the while Seungcheol promises him a legend of deranged heaven he will taste... the soonest.

 

Because what he’s doing isn’t for loathe; isn’t for anger. It is passion, red hot madness.

 

And he can’t seem to stop for only fools pay the price; only then will he admit downfall.

 

*

 

Urban Seoul at daytime is Seungcheol with his eye smiles and outlandish gestures of kindness and bizarre affection. There are times that he’ll look at Jeonghan like the younger owns the ghosts of his past and future. It is offensive, in parts; the fact that he can conjure such strong emotion that easily. At the same time, it is pride; the fact that albeit Seungcheol walks like he owns the world, Jeonghan undeniably can make him weak.

 

The sun burns just enough to send scintillates to his skin, making Jeonghan consciously rub at the ring in his finger: a protection of some sort and a reminder that vampires remain slaves to the sun.

 

Seungcheol, who has been with Jeonghan for straight six months (a bit overdue according to his nomadic schedule which kept him safe), isn’t around. Seungcheol, with his stunning silver hair and striking gray eyes, vacates the obnoxious silent mansion.

 

And then as if his train of thoughts and Seungcheol’s senses were of the same waves, the older bursts in through the large oak twin doors, sweating very profusely but with mocking leer in his face. Jihoon, whose hair has turned blond two weeks back, trails behind him with a big scowl on and fangs baring his teeth, ready to attack.

 

Angered, Jihoon hollers, “The next time you go on a trip to hellhole, give me a fucking notice!”

 

Jeonghan watches how every grace leaves Jihoon’s demeanor. There’s power surging in his red eyes that Jeonghan thinks would be able to catalyze any human beings in vicinity. No one would want Jihoon mad. He catches Seungcheol’s eyes and gives attention to how his expression shifts from vacant to suddenly warded.

 

“I did not ask you to follow me, Hoonie,” the eldest whispers but it got caught up suspended in air when Jihoon slams him back against the wall of the hallway.

 

“Do not call me with that name.”

 

Jeonghan flinches but Seungcheol doesn’t, a leer still present in his face though his arm is blooming with red liquid because it punctures through wood.

 

Intimidation serves as a big comeuppance to Jihoon’s lack of height, especially when he’s evolved to his true form, black veins running half through the expanse of his milky white face reaching up to the corner of his right eye. Jeonghan wonders if power has never looked this gorgeous.

 

“Listen,” he growls and this time Seungcheol’s leer shifts to monotone, “mother may have found interest in your games but I don’t. You could have get us killed.”

 

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol’s breath falters, eyes dropping zero on the other as if saying a silent message in between the two. Jeonghan feels like he’s watching the personification of fury and rage.

 

Jihoon and Seungcheol’s history isn’t one for folded secrets of generations to generations. The brothers are the only _originals_ left roaming the face of earth after their father decided to annihilate each and everyone of their kind. The rebellion has been very chaotic; a bloodbath and the reason why Seungcheol despises the council so much. He doesn’t follow the bullshit.

 

“No,” Jihoon has Seungcheol pressed on the wall harder this time, an unexpected shove from the younger when he was unguarded. “Let Jeonghan hear what you did.”

 

It was Jeonghan’s turn to look at Seungcheol this time. “What did you do?” he commands, mind leering into a plethora of possibilities Seungcheol could and would do. After all, this man doesn’t recognize hesitation.

 

"He gave the council a fucking notice about our location. They are on the way."

 

*

 

_Jeonghan charges into the forbidden circle in full speed, stopping a breath away from his man before plunging the stake all the way through his heart._

 

Joshua jerks back with the undeniable amount of power that felt like he was plunged into the depths of something so cold. He dislodges and Jeonghan stares at him with an unreadable expression in his face. "Don'tㅡ" he utters, backing away from the latter when he tried to help him up, because he somehow managed to stagger on his own two feet during that transfer of premonition.

 

"Does that satisfy you, now?" Jeonghan's voice is dripping with sarcasm and something Joshua knows, but denies.

 

"Trust isn't something you pick up on your way home, Jeonghan," he answers, not waiting for anymore retort from the other, before he slams the door of the bedroom shut.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To kill or not to kill; that is the question. Tell me your thoughts. Let's talk in curiouscat.me/pflaume.

**Author's Note:**

> A vampire au no one wanted, including me, because we all know how cliche this au is but eh. This is pure word vomit and I'm sorry but I do hope you enjoy. I'm just trying to overcome a block so here's me, desperately reviving the tag.
> 
> Also, suggest me plots or something so I could procrastinate and write. Hope everyone's doing well. Tell me your thoughts.


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